


Your Lips, They Got Me Going

by oneforyourfire



Category: EXO (Band), VIXX
Genre: 69ing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 16:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7722265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/oneforyourfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaehwan is just irresistible, infectious, just too good at making Kyungsoo <i>want</i>, and Kyungsoo is just unnerved, disconcerted, intrigued. Helpless. (boys w/ nice mouths use those mouths on e/o)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Lips, They Got Me Going

Kyungsoo thinks that honestly maybe Jaehwan was made _just_ to get under his skin. Too loud, too demanding, too _much_ —maybe even almost _deliberately_ so. Because he’s just too fucking perfect for it to be anything but intentional, anything but some cruel twist of fate designed to leave Kyungsoo unnerved, disconcerted, intrigued. Helpless.

Jaehwan is just _too much_. (Too perfect).

And there’s an awful, beautiful sharpness to Jaehwan’s face, an aggravatingly perfect plushness to his mouth, an infuriatingly looming strength and solidity to his long long long body, an irritatingly emotive timbre to his voice—when he speaks, when he sings, when he moans just just just for Kyungsoo.

_Special_ , Kyungsoo has found himself believing at times, _this is special. Us together, it’s special_.

But Jaehwan is possessed always with a certain grating, frustrating need to draw attention to himself and invite an audience. He’s indiscriminate in it—always, always, always speaking too loud, too animated, too big, but with an irresistible, infectious glimmer in his eyes.

And no, it isn’t special. No, it doesn’t mean anything. No, it _can’t_. In spite of everything.

Jaehwan is just irresistible, infectious, just too good at making Kyungsoo _want_ , and Kyungsoo is just unnerved, disconcerted, intrigued. Helpless.

Jaehwan is _especially_ irresistible now, without an audience, save for a helplessly rapt, enraptured Kyungsoo—special, special, _special_. And Jaehwan is _extra_ irresistible like this—maddeningly so—with his parted mouth and bared neck, his plush lips rendered plusher by the force of Kyungsoo’s bruising, demanding, unnerved, disconcerted, intrigued, fucking _helpless_ kisses, touches, want.

Dazed already, drunk on the heat of the moment, Kyungsoo wants to sink into Jaehwan’s skin, break him apart, tear until he finds some matter of relief, release, but he settles instead for tugging hard on his hair, fingers skittering down his scalp to mold into the nape of neck, urging him lower, closer.

Jaehwan follows easily, indulges him briefly, rougher with it than Kyungsoo is expecting, his kiss hard, fast, deep. He disengages with a lingering bite to Kyungsoo’s bottom lip that has Kyungsoo’s body desperately straining upwards for more.

Laughing, even with his eyes glazed over and his breathing ragged and his cock dragging against Kyungsoo’s stomach, Jaehwan pulls his body purposefully away, using his height to his advantage. He drops a series of infuriatingly fond _so small_ s and _so cute_ s and _so precious_ es into the crown of Kyungsoo’s head, the words hot and wet against Kyungsoo’s gel-tacky hair as his lips drag with the endearment. Kyungsoo can _hear_ the smirk in his voice, but he’s arching nonetheless into the cradling fingers at his jawline.

And Kyungsoo, per this game, he has to stretch, work for it, exhilaration racing through his veins as he tugs, and Jaehwan follows. Kyungsoo bites, and Jaehwan moans, squeezes hard and bruising at his waist. Kyungsoo’s won, and Jaehwan is allowing himself to be devoured mouth-first, head thunking back against the stuccoed hotel wall as he slumps forward for more friction, a deeper, more devastating kiss.

It’s not always like this. It’s softer sometimes, too. More often than not, honestly, more often than Kyungsoo is comfortable admitting to himself right now. It’s softer, slower, sweeter, a quiet sort of tenderness, slow burns and heavy heavy buildups, tangled fingers and mingled breaths and gasped, trembling orgasms swallowed whole. Kyungsoo doesn’t always resent. Kyungsoo hardly ever resents. Kyungsoo maybe even—

But even then, even soft, even slow, even sweet, it’s still unnerving, disconcerting, and intriguing, maybe even in a more debilitating way. And in those moments, those increasingly frequent moments, Jaehwan is just enough sweetness cut with just enough bite, just enough fight to have Kyungsoo pressing back for more, imagining this is something more. Wanting it—stupidly, helplessly _wanting_ it—to be something more.

But tonight, it’s not one of those nights. Jaehwan, he’d been extra trying this evening, irreverent and overloud, overbold, overconfident even in the discreet booth of their fried chicken restaurant. Teasing, prodding, testing, none of his usual soft-eyed, soft-voiced reassurances and appeals, his long chicken-greasy fingers welcome on Kyungsoo’s wrist, Jaehwan distressing in the warmest, most painfully potent kind of way, pressing deep deep deep under his skin in a way that had Kyungsoo maybe maybe maybe longing.

No, Jaehwan had been sharper tonight, louder, harder, an elbow swiped across the crown of Kyungsoo’s head, a chidingly fond squeeze to Kyungsoo’s cheeks, a slurred appeal for Kyungsoo to show his _hyung_ what he really had, goading, daring.

Jaehwan like this is so very much like he’d been on the first night they’d met, the first night that Kyungsoo had first been drawn. Safe at least, unnerving, disconcerting, intriguing as he might be.

Jaehwan, he’s teasing now, paradoxically reassuring like this as he devolves into the sharp, unknown boy of Kyungsoo’s memories, and he’s kissing back, moaning back, touching back, wanting back, fingers tangling in Kyungsoo’s hair as he grazes his lips over Kyungsoo’s heaving throat.

Jaehwan turns suddenly, presses Kyungsoo into the wall in the next breath. He falls to his knees with a short laugh, a smirk. Mocking, hard, sharp, he’s safe like this, and his mouth drags across Kyungsoo’s tense, taut stomach, hot and wet even through the fabric of Kyungsoo’s wrinkled shirt as he moans, splays his fingers across Kyungsoo’s trembling thighs in a fond, fond caress. And Kyungsoo’s chin knocks against his sternum as Jaehwan’s tongue drags over the concave fabric near his navel, teases along the hem of his rumpled shirt.

One warning tug to his hair, and he’s laughing again, smirking again, chiding again but working Kyungsoo’s pants open, tugging at his boxers, humming as he takes him into his mouth. Kyungsoo moans helplessly, damningly.

Fondness—something maybe even heavier—laces with arousal as Jaehwan smiles into his next bob, gorgeous tongue swirling on the ridge of Kyungsoo’s achingly hard cock, impossibly soft lips dragging in the most excruciatingly perfect caress.

“Dick sucking lips,” Jaehwan had called them the first time he’d done this, holding Kyungsoo steady as he’d kissed down his neck, the English rolling smooth and sinful off his tongue. “Hm, these dick sucking lips want to be sucking your dick.”

And he had, eager and enthusiastic and efficient, Kyungsoo moaning disbelievingly at every delicious drag of ruddy lips against his pulsing length. So perfect that Kyungsoo had come so fast, so hard. Still does, every time Jaehwan does this.

Jaehwan is just as eager, just as enthusiastic, just as efficient tonight as he had been on that first night, and he has Kyungsoo gasping soon enough, muscles locked and fingers fisted and eyes fighting to stay open, desperate to watch.

And his mouth is really perfect for this. He's skilled, fluid, maddeningly, irritatingly, aggravatingly beautiful. Perfect for this, for him, if Kyungsoo really allows himself to hope and feel, allows himself to think that this is _special_.

From his angle, on his knees, Jaehwan can’t quite see, but he gropes for the general direction of Kyungsoo’s mouth nonetheless, humming around the cock in his own mouth, swirling his tongue in a delicious caress that has Kyungsoo’s knees shaking, Kyungsoo’s head spinning, Kyungsoo’s mouth falling open in a breathy, breathy, helpless moan.

He can feel Jaehwan smiling around his erection, his wonderful lips curling with it, as his hands skate higher, higher, higher. Jaehwan’s fingers scrape over Kyungsoo's pebbled nipples, dig into his clothed chest, nimble and teasing over his ribs. They drag in the softest graze when they finally reach their destination, asking, not demanding, and Kyungsoo panting around another moan, suckles them into his mouth, imitating Jaehwan’s swirling tongue, his teasing lips, his fluid bobs.

Jaehwan, predictably, moans, sucking harder, cheeks hollowing with the intensity of his suction, his plush lips catching on the crown of Kyungsoo’s cock with a reverent curse.

Jaehwan’s fingers fall free, press briefly over the corner of his mouth in some clumsy caress before skittering wet and heavy down Kyungsoo’s body, anchoring at his hips, squeezing hard into the tense muscle as he bobs on his cock.

Kyungsoo’s chin crashes on his sternum with a sharp hitch of breath as he regards Jaehwan through heavy lashes. He’s unnerving, disconcerting, intriguing like that on his knees just for him.

And oh, Jaehwan isn’t as good at hiding it as Kyungsoo originally thought. Isn’t as quite as good at pretending to be the sharp, safe, hard boy of his past. No, there’s a softness to his eyes even now, an irritatingly indulgent pliance to his demeanor, an easy smirk even with his lips wrapped around Kyungsoo’s cock. Jaehwan is a teasing sort of insolence laced with potent, potent, potent affection. Frustrating familiar, fond, doing this, like this, because Jaehwan _cares about_ him.

Love, Jaehwan had called it that night. Love, Kyungsoo had denied.

Oh God, oh God, oh God—

Kyungsoo thrusts once into Jaehwan’s mouth to distract himself, and Jaehwan gasps, lips catching on the retreat, a hot hot moan vibrating against the head of Kyungsoo’s cock, Jaehwan’s lips grazing there as he pants out a heady, heavy, hot, hot _yes_. Jaehwan teases there with tiny tiny grazes that have Kyungsoo’s hips jumping once more, knees nearly buckling at the hot, wet friction, the slick drag of Jaehwan’s smooth tongue. Dazed, nearly delirious with pleasure, Kyungsoo tangles his hands in Jaehwan’s soft hair to thrust again and again, harder, faster, more punishing.

And Jaehwan’s mouth—his dick sucking lips—look especially beautiful like that, plush and ruddy around his cock, taking over and over and over again. It’s the most gorgeous distraction. Jaehwan’s mouth was truly _made_ for this, and Kyungsoo loves loves loves putting it to use. 

Kyungsoo has them too—dick sucking lips—Jaehwan has praised on multiple occasions, when Kyungsoo has returned the favor, the observation always breathlessly impressed, nauseatingly fond. Dick sucking lips, a mouth that was fucking _made_ for this, too. Made for me, perfect for me. You’re _exactly_ what I want.

Last week, on a softer night, a slower night, their absolute sweetest night, after a particularly tender, tender round on nondescript, soft, white hotel sheets, Kyungsoo had just briefly changed Jaehwan’s name to boyfriend, his foot tapping a nervous tattoo on the cab floor on his ride home. Because lean lines cast in gorgeous shades of blue and pink from the twinkling Seoul skyline, Jaehwan had told Kyungsoo he loved him as he had streaked across his own stomach, bitten his orgasm into Kyungsoo’s sweat straining shoulder. And he’d been intent on proving it afterward, underscoring his point, as he’d curled around Kyungsoo’s tense, tense body, too tight, too long, too much, calling it _love_ —when Kyungsoo wasn’t, wasn’t _ready_ for that then. Now, either.

But it isn’t about that now. Jaehwan isn’t asking him to confront that right now. Not yet at least.

And Jaehwan’s mouth is the most gorgeous distraction, a familiar unnerving beneath the chaos swirling still in Kyungsoo’s mind, his heart. 

And mercifully, thankfully, Jaehwan’s seemingly intent on having Kyungsoo completely enraptured, consumed. With pleasure, with the heat that had first had him stumbling towards this ill-advised courtship. 

He _is_. Unnerved, disconcerted, intrigued, helpless, pinned by the glorious heat of Jaehwan’s swirling tongue alone, Kyungsoo is rendered tense, taut with pleasure at every lilting hum, every wet ruined gasp, every gloriously searing drag.

Jaehwan’s hands claw higher, digging into Kyungsoo’s stomach with just the right mix of pain and pleasure and possession to have Kyungsoo’s knees nearly buckling, and Kyungsoo careens closer to the edge, toes curling in the shoes he never bothered to kick off.

“I’m gonna—“ he warns in a ruined gasp, and Jaehwan pulls away with an even more ruined moan, fist trembling as he strokes him.

His cheeks have been rubbed raw from the scrape of Kyungsoo’s denim against his cheeks, and his eyelashes are clumping together with glistening tears, his hair disheveled, his lips—his beautiful dick sucking lips—swollen and ruined around an imploring _Kyungsooyah_. 

Fuck fuck _fuck_.

And Kyungsoo has always been selective with who lets in, who he likes enough, trusts enough to let in, and like this, terrified as he is of what this all means, Kyungsoo _can’t_ regret letting him in, _can’t_ regret getting this attached, getting this terrifyingly close to being attached, not it when it means having Jaehwan like this, gasping wet and ruined as his breath blows hot over Kyungsoo’s trembling shaft.

Jaehwan had been an indulgence, a treat of sorts, on that night he’d slipped his number into Jaehwan’s phone, smile, smirk sure to reach his eyes. Jaehwan, unnerving, disconcerting, intriguing, he’s Kyungsoo’s _best_ mistake. Dangerous and captivating as he is.

Kyungsoo curls forward, spine arching and legs parting as Jaehwan repeats his name. Even more strained now, it’s raw with arousal, not with emotion. Safe, welcome, so fucking _hot_.

“ _Touch_ me,” Jaehwan implores, voice impossibly frayed, his lips nuzzling pleadingly against his cock, and he’s curling, too, arching, too, when Kyungsoo reaches for him, pulls probably too hard at his hair.

They stumble onto the floor, turn, twist, so Kyungsoo is nuzzling at Jaehwan's cock, too, fingers biting his denimed thighs. Jaehwan moans beautifully loud at that, arching in provocation when Kyungsoo makes to take off his pants and underwear, take him between his lips.

“Love your mouth,” Jaehwan manages, wet, wobbly. “Wanna—wanna fuck it all the time. Kiss it all the time. Fu—” And he breaks off with a heady pant against Kyungsoo’s thigh, his restless, trembling fingers kneading the flesh. There’s a quiet sort of ruin in the way his eyelashes kiss rapidly over Kyungsoo's skin, the helpless way his cock pulses along Kyungsoo’s testing, teasing tongue. Jaehwan’s responding tremor is too perfect, too unnerving, too disconcerting, too intriguing for Kyungsoo not to repeat the caress, harder, more thorough. He bobs slowly, succulently once, twice. 

Twisted, writhing beneath him, Jaehwan can’t appreciate the visual like he often does, eyebrows pinching and his jaw falling slack as he praises Kyungsoo for how utterly _beautiful_ he looks sucking him off, so Kyungsoo makes sure to overwhelm him with the sensations instead, lips catching along the ridge of Jaehwan’s cock, tongue swirling as Jaehwan moans, labored breath rushing hot over Kyungsoo’s skin. 

And Kyungsoo is braced over him, trembling just slightly, moaning just slightly, too, as Jaehwan arches up to suckle at him, too, wet and devastatingly thorough, soft lips dragging, searing tongue tracing, his hands meanwhile spanning Kyungsoo’s thighs, anchoring to get a steady enough grip. Moaning against the cock in his mouth, Kyungsoo writhes downward onto the warm, wet suction of Jaehwan’s mouth, cursing softly, reverently at the heat, the moisture, the plush perfection. 

And _oh_ , it’s even better like this, an exploration of new positions, not new feelings. Around a breathy moan, Jaehwan traces his tongue along the underside of Kyungsoo’s cock, shifts to press slick and dancing along the slick of his cock before swallowing him deep, and _oh_ , it’s the safest, most distressingly hot distraction. 

Like this, Kyungsoo can feel Jaehwan’s every helpless full-body tremor against his mouth, taste the utter ruin of Jaehwan's response, press back into the bite of Jaehwan’s fingers on his thighs, his ass, fucking into Jaehwan’s mouth all the while, chase pleasure while giving it himself. He loses himself in the sensation, the reciprocal pleasure of it, pausing only occasionally to moan into Jaehwan’s musky skin as Jaehwan drags his plush, perfect lips over Kyungsoo's own aching cock in an entirely too good, too familiar technique. It has Kyungsoo hurtling closer and closer to the edge, knees trembling as they scrape over the shag carpet. 

One particularly skillful bob has Kyungsoo nearly collapsing, has Jaehwan humming around a strained laugh, repeating the caress with a breathless _Love it when you get like this_. 

Safe and provocative and entirely effective. 

Kyungsoo sucks even harder at that, sure to skim his lips over the swollen, pulsing head of Jaehwan's cock, teeth teasing there just briefly enough for Jaehwan’s entire body to shudder, his spine to bow sharp and beautiful beneath Kyungsoo’s palms. “Come,” Kyungsoo urges, hips jerking sympathetically when Jaehwan thrusts weak and sloppy into his mouth. “Come on, Jaehwannie. Fucking _come_.”

He does then, loud and ringing as he spurts across Kyungsoo’s tongue, all messy jerking limbs and trembling skin. Labored breathing as he recovers, lazy touches and lazier hums. Lax and sated, Jaehwan’s more focused, even more deliberate. And Kyungsoo is coming soon after, clawing at the carpet as his hips jerk and eyes clench and mouth parts with it. 

Jaehwan turns, twists somehow so that they’re face to face, side by side when Kyungsoo opens his eyes. And there's a telltale softness in Jaehwan's eyes as he blinks up at him heavily, watches Kyungsoo with way too much fondness for Kyungsoo to pretend he can't see it. Kyungsoo squirms just slightly, shoulders rolling and gaze dropping as Jaehwan reaches out, skims his fingers over the skin of Kyungsoo's bare waist where his shirt has ridden up, his pants have ridden down. 

Jaehwan’s featherlight touch feels like a kiss, almost, maybe even like another terrifying, suffocating "I love you." Curling closer, moving so so so slow, Jaehwan drags his lips over the column of Kyungsoo’s throat, rumbling something soft but affectionate against his skin. 

Self-conscious, just slightly overwhelmed and unnerved and disconcerted and intrigued, just just just _helpless_ and painfully vulnerable, Kyungsoo closes his eyes once more but presses back into the touch, and Jaehwan's lip against his neck stretch into a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> a double crosspost, from vixxo and my lj comm


End file.
